


Nur für die Schwachen

by Dorminchu



Series: The Barebone Essentials [9]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Anachronistic, Angst, Annie is a hardass, Awkward First Times, Banter, Belligerent Sexual Tension, Canon Era, Character Study, Conflict of Interests, Denial of Feelings, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eren doesn't take her shit, F/M, Guilt, Lack of Communication, M/M, Mood Whiplash, Multi, Novelization(?) of a doujinshi, Relationship Study, Sexual Content, Sweet/Hot, This is going to be very beautiful and then very sad, Trainee Era, Unresolved Emotional Tension, awkward handjobs, is that even a thing?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:49:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5223977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorminchu/pseuds/Dorminchu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the final months leading up to graduation from Academy, Eren has an unexpected run-in with Annie. Things quickly spiral out of control, and whether or not their actions will have any lasting consequences...well, that's another matter entirely. For now, all that's left to do is try to survive 'til graduation—and perhaps even learn a little about each other before then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Exordium

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [THAT DAY](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/213685) by ソーヤー. 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a/n: So, uh. This was really supposed to be a grammar-check, but got a bit outta hand. I changed a lot of small details, including the lyrics that open each chapter, as well as the rating: from a T to an M! About time, I guess. Don't worry, "Stuck in the Middle" will make an appearance soon enough.
> 
> (ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED: 7.16.16)

_i. you keep me waiting within your grasp, but I can't tell what you feel, and I'm too afraid to ask you_

"Better Luck", Scissor Sisters

* * *

She is young and cold and feared by many. He is younger, vivacious and fearless.

In the first year Annie does not know Jaeger very well, nor is she quite sure how to handle him; so she ignores him, mostly. But they meet again as the months bleed into each other and the earth freezes and thaws, and she quickly realises she may strike him down, she may steer clear of him, she may dismiss him coolly as many times as she wishes but she cannot truly avoid him, not forever, because in the end he just keeps coming back, and she's not quite unkind enough to do something drastic enough to make him stop.

She discovers, too, that it's become impossible to rebuff Reiner's frequent mockeries of her exasperation with violence, because in the beginning it was more than effective to cast a cold and impassive air around herself, and no one dared bother her. But once everyone realised that Reiner was scarcely as damaged on the physical spectrum of things as she would have liked to let on, it took the edge off of the whole demonstration. Nowadays, more often than not, all it seems to do is give the others a reason to laugh at her.

Annie tries to remind herself that she does not hate Jaeger or Reiner. She gets pretty damn good at convincing herself of this, too, but she still finds herself unreasonably irritable whenever she runs into either of them in the open. At least Jaeger wants to learn from her; Reiner's been nothing but an arse as of late. If Annie were less cynical she might even let herself find it quaint that the former boy respects her so much.

It's shaping up to be another quiet night in the old common room. The few cadets that usually hang around to play cards and socialise are already going off to bed, and the sun has begun to set. Annie has not had much time to think about matters beyond the reaches of her own self-preservation, what with the certainty of graduation looming over their heads—and the ambiguity of whatever will come afterward—but now….

She's not alone, she realises. Jaeger is here, too. How he's managed to extract himself from the company of Arlert and Ackerman is anyone's guess. He hasn't said hello to her yet, just lingers in the background like he's got nowhere else to be. But she can feel him watching her from across the room.

Through the years he has demonstrated a sort of understanding of her intentions, graduated from the occasional cheery greeting to something more discreet and now, he watches her from the side-lines like a curious young wolf. She does not remember when this started, exactly, only that it's been relatively recent, and she has learnt to recognise his interest for what it is.

She knows that she could put an end to this. And she knows he would let her, as she feels his eyes settle on her back like a knife held steady to the gap between her shoulder blades. Hands curl to fists, nails blunt, but digging into her palms; she realises she's trembling. Something sparks off rebelliously in the pit of her belly, matched by a seething in her chest, white-hot.

She isn't sure what she'll do if she stays here.

Jaeger says something, and his tone is light and unworried but she doesn't hear for the frantic pulse of her own heart. She shuts her eyes tight, opens them. Making up her mind with the turn of her heel, catching him off guard when she crosses the room in a few strides to trap him on the sagging armchair he's been regarding for the past minute or so.

—What the he—ger _off_ me! he splutters predictably, so she stops, pulls back, keeps him cornered without initiating further contact. She won't push him. He's more indignant than he is flustered and this gives her some courage.

—I won't stop you, is all she says, and waits for a reaction. But his hands remain at his sides, and he looks conflicted instead of abashed or angry.

—Why are you doing this? he asks slowly, like he's weighing the question.

—Why does anybody do anything? It comes out more confident than she feels, because now that she's actually got Jaeger pinioned down at her discretion she isn't quite sure what to do with him.

—I know what _you're_ doing, he grumbles, but won't look at any part of her, going pink and cagey.

—And? she presses.

Jaeger looks up, sceptic. She is silent, watching his expression, his body language; he's pressing himself back into the chair, his eyes are wide, trained on her. It's not quite fear that she sees in him, but something closer to panic, as though he'd been the one to catch her unawares and isn't sure what to do next.

It's almost cute, she thinks, and then she catches herself. Perhaps that's all there is to it, plain-and-simple: Jaeger could very easily be a lost cause. Perhaps she ought to stop before she gets ahead of herself.

A new emotion strikes her now, slow and insidious; when she speaks, her words are tinged with disappointment. —Fine. Forget it, then.

She pulls back, about to disengage; in the split-second she does, everything changes. Jaeger's uncertainty turns to shock, confusion, agitation, all in rapid succession. A frustrated growl escapes his throat before he shoots up, catching her shoulders and…and he doesn't kiss her at all, just stares at her hotly as though waiting for something, though Annie isn't sure what.

She decides to wait it out, too. After a few seconds, Jaeger swallows, appears to lose a bit of nerve before he recalls himself and at last asks, bluntly: —What d'you want from me?

She blinks, taken aback by the question, but not about to let on. Jaeger's eyes narrow, and Annie knows she's been caught.

—I thought you knew already, she replies, trying to be cool about it. He isn't moved, and his grip on her does not relax, but he isn't doing anything. She really doesn't understand.

—Is that all? he asks, leaning in slow, forehead-to-forehead. Annie knows she's lingered too long; she's breathing him in, can feel the heat of his body through his clothing and wonders—if it's mutual, and if she keeps him up at night.

She needs to get away before one of them makes a mistake.

—No, she says softly. It's not all.

Jaeger shivers, his eyes a little darker in the low light, his lips chapped, slightly parted. She's never really thought about another human in this sort of detail before, and before she has time to realise the gravity of her error, he's drawing her in.

It's not the first time she's kissed someone, or thought about it—but it's never been allowed to progress into anything like this. For all of the heat in his gaze and the firmness of his grasp, he's tentative, almost chaste about this. Annie thinks she might be grateful.

They part with a soft noise; for a moment, the spell is broken, and both parties regard each other carefully.

—Um, says Jaeger.

Annie is composed enough to raise her eyebrows. He starts to pull back, then stops. Opens his mouth to say something, maybe, before she kisses him again, a little harder this time. Jaeger grunts, hesitant to respond past this, and she kind of huffs.

—What? he mumbles.

—You can kiss back, you know.

—O-oh. Jaeger looks slightly anxious, eyes travelling down her throat. Annie suppresses her growing urge to run, instead frames his face with a delicateness that feels unbecoming to her, thumbs at his jaw.

Their next kiss is decidedly heated. She tilts her head a little, runs her tongue over his bottom lip. Jaeger gasps, and then permits her further, grunts softly when they meet in the middle; just like that, something changes between them. His hands are not so tentative anymore as he grapples with her body, and now there are the ridges of teeth, hers and his. His mouth is kind of wet, but she figures she can work with it.

He shudders, ducking down, kissing her jaw, her chin, nosing over the side of her throat. Annie feels him undulate slightly below and stifles a noise; it's impossible to ignore any longer. She grabs his head, fingers running through his hair, guiding him upwards.

—Jaeger.

—Hunh?

Curious, she rocks against him. His shudder is a visceral thing and his hips rise easily to meet her, eyes wide and fluttering. It takes very little to set him off; she pins him to the armchair and grinds down with as much force as she cares to employ. It sees him gasping, his hands tremble as they hold her steady. Annie reckons she knows what she wants to do but not how to go about it, because _how_ is not the same as _what_ , and her mind flails for a solution.

—Annie, he groans against her neck, his hands all-too solid on her hips; he sounds terrifically uncomfortable.

—What, Jaeger? she murmurs, heady with the rush, and rocks a little quicker just to see what it'll do to him. He spits out a curse, grabs her arse and pulls her flush into his lap, moving with haphazard purpose as if to say: all right, see how _you_ like it.

She makes this little noise that surprises her, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, and he exhales hoarsely, his mouth open and curled against her shoulder, eyes gleaming—she might as well be naked, the way he looks at her.

Reeling, Annie tries to take back control by way of her own initiative, and that seems to reinforce his resolve.

Jaeger burrows his head someplace beneath her shoulder, scrabbling for her smaller body as if to check that she's really there. In-between the disparate grinding of hips and hands dragging over each other's covered bodies, there's something else, strange and uncoordinated, that makes her heart flutter unreasonably.

To her surprise Jaeger suddenly sucks in a ragged breath, hissing through his teeth, pushing her off of him so she's straddling one thigh.

—Annie, I need—oh _God_ , uh, he manages weakly, giving up the moment she takes the matter into her own hands.

—Shh, she breathes, fumbling with his buckle, unsure exactly how to respond, lips pressed to his brow in a clumsy attempt at reassurance, it's all right, don't fight it.

That line sounded much better in her head; out loud, it's as if she's speaking to a dying comrade. Jaeger must be thinking something similar, because he tries to laugh and it turns into a strangled moan once she gets her hands on him, his voice cracking slightly.

But it's easier than she'd thought it would be, even while her fingers tremble at their task and he squirms beneath her. Annie wills herself to relax, just work until he's free from the confines of fabric and gasping weakly, gazing at her with something close to adulation. She wishes he wouldn't.

—What? she asks at last, tone sharp with uncertainty.

Jaeger shakes his head, bites his tongue. He won't quite meet her eyes, just grasps the hand that holds him and squeezes her wrist. She affords a curious glance southward, and her mind wanders of its own accord….

(…after all, Reiner's got his fair share of interesting stories, and despite her indifference—and perhaps more curiously, Bertholdt's chagrin—he seems overjoyed at having found purpose, even if it's in the ability to offer his fellow soldiers something differ ent than a daily slew of lies. Insufferable or not, Annie can't fault him for that.

Besides, that hasn't stopped Annie from listening in more than once, even if she'd rather die than admit to it, but what else was she supposed to do when the other girls wouldn't shut up if not lie still in her bunk, taking mental notes?

Even Mina had eventually interrogated her about this kind of thing a week ago, albeit in less explicit terms: — _Is there anyone you fancy?_

Annie, by contrast, had made it perfectly clear: — _I don't care who's fucking who, because it isn't my problem, and if you really have to know, Carolina, you should go ask Reiner._

That had shut the other girl up—maybe not for good, but she hadn't asked Annie any more questions, and she hadn't given it much thought up until recently.

 _Maybe they're all on to something_ , she muses silently. _I could test a lot of things, right here, and he'd probably let me._

A second after reaching this conclusion, she balks: _Christ, what am I doing?_ )

Jaeger shifts his weight forth slightly, and she's drawn back from her thoughts.

—O-oi, Annie? he croaks, eyes glazed. You 'lright?

She glances warily at him. Jaeger grins weakly, no longer trying to hide. Perhaps it really should be her who's asking the question, given the circumstances, but if Annie's learning anything to-night it's that she's sorely underestimated Jaeger's abilities of perception.

Best to play things safe. She gives him a languid stroke, just to keep him occupied. He groans, buries his face in her shoulder, grasping hazily at her thighs, rutting into her hand with a bit more force than she anticipates.

It's around this point that Annie decides a couple things: that it's rather amusing to watch Jaeger melt over the barest of touches, but she also can't deny she feels a little sorry for him. With a bit of encouragement she's following his lead.

—Are you close? she asks, and it sounds so _bare_ out loud, a mechanical statement. Jaeger kind of moans, hapless. She kisses his forehead and he jolts.

—Sh-shit, he stutters, his grip fast on her wrist like lightning. Annie gets it, and she feels far less concerned than she thinks one ought to be.

—Just let go, she mutters lowly, and every inch of him is taut, humming with desperate anticipation. Let go.

It seems to take a moment to sink in. As if time has slowed, his eyes widen, his voice cracks, and he hauls her up against his body, coming with a strangled noise, hips stuttering.

Annie's startled at first, until Jaeger begins to relax, breathless in the aftermath. She feels hot and slightly discontented, but not unhappy. Mostly, she's just considering how she ought to explain this very conspicuous stain to the other cadets, because while many of them are dull enough to believe whatever silly little lie Annie offers up, there are always a couple outliers. Ackerman, for example; the girl may be many things, but she isn't dense. She watches Jaeger—and by extension, the object of his affection—like a hawk. Actually, she'd put the hawk to shame. Annie smirks at the notion.

The amusement fades as soon as Jaeger calls her name. She finds his eyes, a faint blush gracing his cheeks, and the whole of him outlined in the yellow-orange of the torchlight.

He apologises gruffly for the obvious; Annie shakes her head, kisses him.

—I started it, you know. So it's not really your fault.

When he laughs, he's a little less abashed, warm and dream-like. His hand strays to the juncture of her thigh, but his voice is hoarse, confused when he says: —You never answered me, y'know.

Annie says nothing. Jaeger blinks, slowly. As if realising something, he frowns. And he kisses her. She returns the gesture as tenderly as she is able, hopes he will understand, because she's never been very good with words, less still with other people, and least of all with people the likes of him because there's nothing to hide, nothing to be said.

When she brushes his hand away from her thigh, he does not object.


	2. A Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> edit, 10/29/17: whoops I changed the title theme, it's a lot more thematically appropriate, plus you can't stop me :P

_ii. As soon as I get my head round you_

_I come around catching sparks off you_

_And all I ever got from you_

_Was all I ever took from you_

"Head On", Pixies/The Jesus and Mary Chain

* * *

The 104th are returning from one of their latest drills out in the field with omni-directional manoeuvre gear. It's a hot and lazy day where even the birds in the trees remain hushed, the clouds travel an idle path across the brilliant blue sky above, and the breeze is a seldom occurrence, yet welcome all the same under myriad layers of stuffy clothing and belts.

The cadets are quickly getting on each other's nerves. The heat brings out a quiet seething in all of them, and they all speak little as they unload their cart, swapping out empty gas canisters and deconstructed training dummies for firewood and fresh blades and tepid water to fill their canisters. Eren helps Armin and Marco with one of the pseudo-Titan dummies—light enough to manage, but unwieldy, and a fair challenge to fit through the storeroom doorway. On the way back to the rest of his fellows, one of the officers approaches him and lays a coil of rope, coarse and thin, across his shoulders, and tells him: —Here's the last of it, cadet. Take that to the storehouse and don't dawdle, 'else you'll miss the cart-ride back.

Eren knows that he'll probably be one of the last to return, but it doesn't bother him so much—until he thinks about their scant supply of water and how thirsty he is, and henceforth quickens his pace. He's surprised, therefore, to find Annie by herself in the shed, moving one of the dummies behind a few stray crates.

—Need any help with that? he calls.

She turns. —No, thanks. I got it. She leans the pseudo-Titan against the wall and straightens up, pushing her sweat-sticky hair out of her face.

—You were pretty impressive out there to-day, Eren says.

Annie grunts noncommittally.

—I meant that as a compliment, Annie, you don't have to be so standoffish all the time.

She offers him one of her more deadpan glances, but says nothing.

—Say, what d'you think of Marco? Eren asks, trying an alternate approach.

—Bodt? The one everyone fawns over?

Her tone is brittle. Eren raises his eyebrows.

—Yes. Do you have a problem with him?

—He's too virtuous for his own good, Annie says. It's likely to get him into trouble someday, if he's at all serious about joining the Military Police. Hell, I'd be surprised if he makes it that far before someone kills him.

—What makes you say that? Eren asks.

—Bodt's too clean. No-one has any dirt on him, but he's got everyone figured out. I don't like it.

Eren frowns, considers her point. —I think he's just trying to do the right thing by all of us.

—You would think like that, wouldn't you?

—You're being awfully combative, Eren says, a little nonplussed.

Annie bristles. —I'm always like this, Jaeger. What did you expect?

Eren shrugs, sliding the scratchy rope from his shoulders to loop it round his arm from wrist to elbow. —Dunno, to be honest with you. He chances a glance back at the door and remembers why he came here in the first place. Hey, where do you suppose this goes? He lifts his arm, and Annie glances at the rope.

—Figure it out, she says.

Eren looks around for a place to hang the rope, but finds nothing. Shrugging, he places it neatly upon a nearby crate and turns back to Annie. —We should head back, the cart's not going to wait forever for us.

But Annie stays where she is. —I suppose he'd be dedicated to the King's cause before he so much as glanced in another human being's direction. You know, if he's smart, I think he'll have himself a career ahead of him.

—Are you still going on about Marco? Eren responds, growing impatient.

—Oh? Would you rather talk about something else? she asks, glancing at him.

Eren isn't sure he likes that sudden lilt in her tone. —I'd rather go back to the damn cart, if it's all the same to you.

Annie appears to consider the point, looks him up and down. Her gaze flickers briefly to the shed door, still ajar and bleeding sunlight, then she returns her attention to him. And in an undertone of utmost seriousness, she inquires, without any sort of pretence: — _Have_ you ever done it? Sex, I mean.

Eren stares at her, momentarily forgetting his thirst or the urge to re-join his fellow cadets, utterly dumbfounded by her lack of tact. He opens his mouth to argue, or protest, or even ask what the hell she's talking about, but nothing comes to him. Eventually he spits it out: —I'm _sorry_?

—Answer the question. Have you done it or not?

— _No!_ he retorts before he can think better of it, then mutters, peevishly, and what d'you care, what the _hell_ does any of that have to do with Marco?

—Well, Jaeger, Annie drawls, I was merely trying to point out that Bodt's got an advantage over us all, in that he's not shown any interest in anyone.

Eren scoffs, not at all convinced. —Right. I don't think you could be any _less_ subtle if you tried.

Annie matches his sentiment with a dry chuckle. —Is that supposed to be funny, Jaeger?

Eren fumes in silence, because okay, she's not wrong, exactly, but he's _also_ in the right, here. She's got a lot of nerve pulling this inexplicit act when she knows damn well that both of them ought to know better…unless she really is messing with him, which is even worse.

—Do you want to try it? she presses, as if sensing she's making some sort of advance. You, with me?

Eren balks a few seconds longer, then finally snaps. —What the hell is that supposed to—is this another one of your jokes? 'Cos it—it's not _funny_ , all right?

—It wasn't a joke.

Her tone is brusque, almost hurt. Eren stares at her, taken aback enough that he forgets he's supposed to be angry, but Annie looks away, her mouth pressed to a thin line.

A long, apprehensive silence follows before she finally speaks again: —I haven't done it, either.

—Uh. Okay, Eren says, unsure if he should be comforted by the thought or not. But—why me?

Annie looks up. —What do you mean?

Eren flusters, making small revolutions with his hands as if he can somehow pull the words from the muggy air around them. —Why d'you want—why are you coming to _me_?

—Does it really matter? she asks, still terse.

—Yeah, it does, says Eren hotly, recovering some nerve. How about _you_ answer the damn question this time?

—Since when did you become so interested in my personal motivations? she asks coolly.

—Because you shouldn't just—spring that sort of proposal on somebody, all right? It's weird. I'm trying to give you some advice so you don't say it to the wrong sort, or….

—You're very noble for someone who's never done anything like this before, she muses.

—So? Eren can't help but be annoyed at her demeanour. Why that's funny?

—And you're not very subtle, either, Annie continues, ignoring his comment entirely.

Eren scoffs. —Well, at least _I_ don't go around soliciting people.

She sneers, but it looks unnatural on her. —Have I offended your delicate sensibilities?

Eren laughs sharply. —Oh, that's rich, coming from you.

She looks at him, still smirking; Eren stares right back, thoroughly irked.

—Come on, he says stiffly, we have to go before they leave without us.

Annie glances over his shoulder. —I expect they have, already.

—WHAT? Eren rushes over to the door, but Annie's in no rush to join him. Shit! he exclaims, rounding on her from the doorway. Now what are we going to do?

— _We_? Annie reiterates curiously from the other side of the shed.

—Yes, Annie. _We_. It's us that've gone missing. Eren walks back over to her, slowly, and refuses to look at her for a few separate reasons, none of which he feels particularly keen on addressing.

—But you haven't left yet, she notes.

—Yeah, says Eren, still miffed, but gradually becoming more-or-less resigned to his fate. I can't very well abandon you here, can I? Even if you are acting like an arse.

Annie does not deny his observation, but she doesn't address it, either. There is a long pause.

—Do you want to do this, then? she asks. Her voice is low, almost anxious.

Eren falters. He's never seen her like this, so open and tentative in her approach. But he's still wary, because this is Annie he's dealing with, after all, so he decides to press her for sincerity. —Look, I answered your question. But you've been avoiding _my_ question ever since I first asked it. That's hardly fair, don't you think?

No response. He exhales slowly. —I think I deserve a proper answer after all this, so I'll ask you again: what the hell makes _me_ so special that you feel you have to go to all the trouble to get me alone and—?

—Goddam it! Annie snaps, and for the first time, she looks genuinely upset, eyes flashing—the sight makes something like satisfaction stir in his chest, but surprise lingers alongside confliction. I asked because I _trust_ you, Jaeger. I didn't think I'd have to spell it out for you, but if that's how you're going to be, I suppose I ought to leave now and find someone who isn't such a—

She never finishes her thought, because Eren kisses her first—and he kisses her hard, fiercely stalwart when he breaks off.

—Such a what? he asks, his irritation and curiosity blending into a strange and altogether irresponsible aspiration to accept her challenge for what it is.

Annie looks genuinely surprised for a second, then quickly reverts to her usual cool demeanour—but Eren sees it, and there's no going back. —Forget it, she grumbles.

—C'mon, it can't be any worse than suicidal bastard.

Annie sighs through her nose. —All right, you're a stubborn arse. Happy?

—Says _you_ , miss I-don't-have-any-sense-of-tact, Eren mutters, wondering if she only said that to make him stop asking.

Annie kisses him again, runs a hand through his hair. —You've made your point, I think.

—Good, he says.

Annie regards him carefully. —That's all you have to say?

—Yeah. Well, unless you'd rather I shut up.

Annie _hrmph_ s.

—Want to bet? he teases.

—No point, she says dryly. You haven't shut up, yet. Why should I let you embarrass yourself?

Eren kisses her nose, just because he can. —I can't be embarrassed every-time you kick my arse. I'd never learn anything, would I?

—Are you keeping track of how many times you've lost? Annie inquires, looking unimpressed.

Eren shakes his head, laughs. —I'm not that scared of you, y'know.

—Do you even know what to do with me? she asks, point-blank.

Eren freezes, reminded glaringly of his own inexperience. —Um.

Annie sighs. —It's fine if you don't.

—You know, Annie, Eren says cautiously, I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.

—Didn't you say you were going to shut up?

Eren huffs. —I _can_ , if you'd like.

Annie pulls back and he's confused 'til she starts working her way out of her harness; in half-a-minute she's pulling up her shirt and his stomach takes a plummet like he's just entered free-fall.

—Ah, he says, very faintly.

Annie throws her shirt aside and gets to her feet, working with her belt. Her eyes narrow; she huffs, annoyed, and plops her weight down on the crate behind her, unbuckles her boots without much pause before reinitiating eye-contact with him.

—Were you planning on doing this with all your clothes on? she inquires. Eren becomes freshly conscious of how uncomfortable he is and makes an effort to conceal it by dropping to the ground, legs crossed, sheepish. Her mouth curls, a mere intimation of a smile, and he can't help but dwell on the idea that Annie's kind of beautiful when she exhibits a little emotion. You don't have to wait for me to get undressed, you know, she adds, kicking off her boots and chinos. She stands once more, and Eren decides she has a point.

His hands are shaking as he follows suit. He's never resented the complex nature of his own harness more than he does at present; it's taken him months to become adequate with the individual straps and get himself in and out of the damned device quickly enough without feeling inadequate under Mikasa's well-intended, but altogether officious inspection. Free at last, he tugs his boots off, folding his jacket haphazardly and putting that aside, as well.

When she re-joins him on the floor he can't help but take her in. Without a word, she grasps one of his hands and places it against her bound chest, looks at him. He hooks two thumbs under the fabric and tugs it carefully down. She remains steadfast under his gaze, and he kisses her cheek.

—Does this come off? he asks.

—It's more trouble than it's worth, Annie says. You needn't bother now, just…

She's gone pink, he realises, as he leans in, kisses her pale mouth once more, trailing down. He's struck by the coolness of her skin, the unexpected softness; up until now, he's always regarded her infrequent remarks on delicacy as a joke, but now…well, he's kind of spellbound.

As though on cue, Annie mutters: —Any questions?

Eren laughs, at ease despite himself. —Not yet.

His hands roam over her body, and his mouth follows. She lets him figure things out at his own discretion; tugs his hair when he's a little too rough, making soft noises when he does something right. Even now, he's a little awed, because all right, there's no denying it, she's simply _lovely_ —an inexplicable paradox of pale shades and colour that he can't put into words without sounding hopelessly love-struck.

Sometimes, he wishes he was as brilliant as Armin.

Annie smiles gently into his scalp before he descends, and Eren never sees fit to make note of this—she probably thinks he hasn't noticed, and it's a secret shared between them. He finds he doesn't mind keeping it.

He moves ahead, mouth half-open upon her collarbone, drawn from breasts to sternum to her navel. Half-hesitant and half-intending to proceed, until Annie catches his head, mutters: —O-oi, Jaeger.

She's panting, now.

He glances up. Her hand settles between her legs as they shift apart, knees bumping his shoulders; he drags his gaze back down to watch the rhythm of her wrist. He stares for quite a while, and eventually Annie sighs, glancing up at him through her bangs with something close to hunger.

—You try it, she ushers him.

Tremulous, Eren reaches out and tests her simply with a thumb, then fingers, gauging the heat that blooms against his skin, just tracing the shape of her without going further. His mouth is suddenly dry. He looks to her face for a sign and she shivers, glancing quickly down and back to him. An idea strikes him, and his head dips between her legs and he kisses her, slow. Annie's breath catches; she makes a little sound in the back of her throat, tense, one hand spread in his hair.

She's warm. Slick, too, but it's sort of insubstantial. His tongue flits against her and Annie gasps, sharp and heated, pushing him back. Eren looks up at her, perplexed. Annie just shakes her head, looking faintly overwhelmed. He glances back to the matter at hand, licks his lips hesitantly. A soft, halting sound escapes her, like a whine, much lower in timbre.

— _Jaeger_ , she breathes, and she's definitely blushing now. The scene is surreal as it is good.

—What do you want me to do? he asks, surprised at how rough his voice sounds.

Her teeth graze her lip, but her gaze is dark and piercing, colour swallowed up by her pupils. —Come here, she says simply.

He understands, though implication has him shivering practically from head to toe. She sits up and he comes forward on his knees, rucking his trousers down past his hips without bothering to discard them. He yelps when she pulls him out, directing him firmly against her. They both hesitate. Then Annie leans back, slowly, and he shudders, grabs her waist and puts one leg astride his hip, pushing in, her heel on the small of his back as she falls to meet the ground—

He remembers what she felt like before, but this is almost too much to bear. He gasps, falling on his hands, head bowed, trying to wrap his head around the notion that someone like her can be so terrifically warm. Annie says nothing, but grunts, brows drawn together, her eyes hazy. For a while he just hovers overhead, panting, and wishes he'd taken his shirt off, he's so hot.

—Jaeger, Annie says at last. Eren's attention snaps back to her with some difficulty; it's a struggle to think.

—What? he pants, as his hands curl to fists on either side of her head.

—You can move, she says, relatively composed.

He wants to say _I'm not sure that's the best idea_ because his head is still spinning and he's got no idea how she can be so calm about this; but he doubts he can manage anything resembling a coherent sentence. He just grunts softly, nods.

He's keenly aware of her eyes on him as he retreats, accidentally slips out; he mutters an apology but she doesn't seem to care that much. He lines them up once more and pushes, harder this time. She hisses, grabbing his shoulders.

—What? he huffs.

—It's fine, she growls, panting a little. Keep—keep going.

He does. Tries to be slow, for his sake as well as hers—just in case she isn't as ready she wants him to think—but Annie doesn't seem to be in any real discomfort, head lolling back, regarding him quietly through her lashes. Eren sits up, running one hand up her abdomen at leisure, watching her shiver beneath him as he rocks of his own accord. Her own hand snakes languidly down between them, and Eren isn't quite sure what she's doing but she jolts when he thrusts forth again.

—Annie? he breathes, by this point equally smitten as he is concerned. As if seeing him for the first time, she blinks, refocussing on him, lips parted in a lazy facsimile of a smirk.

—Yes, Eren?

It's the first time he can recall that she's referred to him by anything other than his surname. He wants to say something, but doesn't know what; the rest of him is hot and aching with want, and so he kisses her again, grins against her mouth, euphoric. He figures she'll understand.

When he pulls back, Annie bites her lip.

—Give me your hand, she whispers, and he does, feels something brush soft against his broader fingers, warm as the rest of her.

—What is it? he asks softly.

—I-it's—ha-ah. She stops mid-sentence, hips rolling up, her spine arching. _God_ , Jaeger, she pants, d'you have any idea what you've done to me…?

He has an inkling. Perhaps more than this, but he'd rather keep her guessing…at least, for a little while.

—A bit, yeah, he murmurs, nuzzling her shoulder before sitting up once more, nearly-perpendicular. Annie gazes longingly after him and he wants to laugh, it's so unlike her.

She doesn't let go of his hand as he braces himself, sets the pace again. It's a bit awkward, sure, but worth it to watch her lashes flutter and her breath quicken, to take in every little shudder that affects her. There's a quiet thrill chasing up the ridges of his spine, and warmth pools deep in his stomach and the notion coils around his brain like smoke, finding a comfortable home: _look what you've done to me_.

And her cool façade flickers, thaws—but even in the midst of such vulnerability, she is graceful—and Annie moans, twisting away from him but Eren pulls her closer, holding her flush against him, mouth open upon her pale throat as she bares it to him. And it's all too much—he stops moving, just for a moment, pushes his palm clumsily into her groin where he feels a pulse, and her feet dig insistently into his back until he growls, pins her to the ground like he means it this time.

— _Eren!_ Annie hisses, writhing up against him, totally un-composed, and her eyes are fierce and bright in a way that evokes the attitude of a simple spar, but now she is sinuous and naked in his arms, and her hair fans out beneath her like a small, untidy halo. Her teeth are bared—somewhere between a grin and a grimace, it's always hard to tell with her. He can't last, not while she looks at him like that. He makes some effort to slow down, manages it for a second or two until she flutters around him and it hits him—like a physical blow, so fast he doesn't even comprehend what's happening at first—he gasps like all the air has dissipated from his lungs, supporting himself upon shaking limbs as not to crush her.

Annie goes still when it happens, but she's not quite as dramatic as him. If anything, she seems more caught off guard by his reaction.

—Shit, Eren gasps at last, wide-eyed and guilty. Even his voice is trembling. I-I didn't mean to….

Annie doesn't say anything, just observes him coolly. He tries to steady his breath, mutters: —S'pose I should try that again, yeah?

Something changes in her pale eyes. —You really mean that, Jaeger?

A half-hearted chuckle works its way from his throat, face warm. —Well, yeah, but I—I can't really do it _now_.

Annie shrugs. —I can wait.

Light-headed in the aftermath, he regards her curiously. —Are you all right?

—Fine, she says, impassive once again.

Eren isn't sure what kind of answer he was expecting, really. He wonders if she'll let him kiss her.

—Jaeger, she says quietly.

He must have been obvious, he thinks, because there's a subtle quirk to her mouth as she loops her arms 'round his neck, drawing him down. Their noses touch, and she won't say a word, gazing intently at him. Eren finds himself at a loss for what to do if not study her—she's still flushed, still warm and bare and real underneath him in the hard light, little strands of blonde hair drifting apart from the whole.

Hesitant to break the silence, he moves in to kiss her cheek. She tilts her head just-so, and their lips meet; amused, he copies the action, mumbling into her jaw: —What, Ann?

She doesn't reply, just initiates another languid kiss, wrapping her legs loose about his waist without encircling him completely. A pleasant little tingle races down his spine and he wonders if this is all just a dream.

But it isn't a dream, it can't be, because Annie huffs against his mouth and lunges up without warning, throwing her full weight against his chest in such a way that he's impelled backwards with seemingly little effort on her part. It catches him off guard, and Eren's halfway between surprise and amusement, because he probably should have anticipated something like this from her anyway—until his head smacks the edge of one of the crates.

—OW! he barks, looking up at her as though betrayed, eyes watering with pain. Annie just smirks from her new perch in his lap.

—Have I got your attention?

—Goddam it, Annie, he hisses, rubbing his scalp where it throbs.

She huffs.

—That wasn't planned. But I expect you've had far worse. There's a pause where Eren continues to glower at her, and Annie relents: You're not bleeding or anything?

—No, I don't think so, Eren grumbles. Why should it matter to you?

Annie rolls her eyes. —I'm not that much of an arse, Jaeger.

He holds still while she scores her fingers through his hair, winces once she finds the spot; it still stings.

—Well, you aren't bleeding, she notes, lets him go.

—Forget about it—what about the others? he says, still prickling. What about Shadis?

—The hell with all of them, Annie says. When Eren stares at her, she shifts about in his lap and adds, seriously: If they cared that much, they would have found us by now.

—It's a long walk back from here to the camp, you know, he reminds her.

—Mm, says Annie. Then we'll have plenty of time, if you wanted to give this another go.

Eren pauses. —About that…do you think I could make it up to you on the way back?

Annie stirs. —On the way back?

—Yeah, he says, blushing a little at the thought. But really, we ought to get a move on before someone finds us.

She sighs, but she looks fairly pleased when she says: —Of course.

They redress in silence. Annie's kind enough to look him over, and asks him for the same courtesy.

Eren pauses, trying to gauge her appearance without any bias. All he can think to say is: —You look fine.

She waits for him to elaborate. When he doesn't, she mutters something like: —You're lucky we're alone, Jaeger, before walking out promptly, and he calls after her to wait. I'm not waiting around for you to find your damned jacket, or whatever it is you've lost, she retorts.

And Eren runs after her to catch up, harness balled up in his arms, falling into line beside her, slightly breathless again but grinning. Even with the fatigue of his muscles settling in, even in the face of the summer's heat and the looming reality that they might not have any food or fresh water for at least another night—maybe two—he can't help but feel lighter.


	3. The Journey Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Nothing much to say here, just that this one was the trickiest to edit, but also very rewarding. Consider this an apology for the lateness of everything I keep yammering on about.  
> Also trying to figure out formatting. Bear with me, here.

_iii:_ _I'd be crazy not to follow_  
Follow where you lead  
Your eyes  
They turn me

"Weird Fishes - Arpeggi" - Radiohead

* * *

It's a quiet walk back. Their disagreements are sparing and communicated through silence. Every now and then there's a sharp glance exchanged, but for the most part the two of them uphold a strained determination to avoid any and all eye-contact.

Neither she nor Jaeger are sure what they ought to say to one another. On any other day Annie could ignore him, return to the comfort of solitude, and he could just as easily go join his little circle of friends, and they could avoid one another as they pleased; but now they are stuck together, with naught but a few rations between them and dry canteens, the clothes on their backs and sex cloying rankish on their skin.

This deficiency of food, while troubling, is not quite so terrible. Annie has gone hungry before. She is sure Jaeger has had similar experiences. There is a river nearby, so they will not die of thirst. The journey itself should take the better part of a day and into early morning, weather permitting.

But she can tell that Jaeger isn't too happy about this situation; sees it in the tensing of his shoulders, his dragging gait. She cannot really fault him—she ought not to have sprung at him first—but it's not like Jaeger had to stay behind and get caught up in this fiasco, either. Nor was it remotely obligatory for him to storm over and kiss her first like the obstinate boy he is…then again, _he_ wasn't the one that purposefully strayed behind their colleagues, knowing full well someone would come looking for her, thinking that perhaps, by some unlikely but still fairly open-ended fortuity, he'd be the one to find her….

It's too hot to debate where the blame should fall. The blame itself hardly matters now that everything has been said and done. What _does_ matter is this: she's tipped her hand, and now Jaeger knows more than she ever meant him to. Annie would be more than happy to have any number of awkward conversations if she could only ensure his return to ignorance.

 _Well_ , she thinks grudgingly, _it's not that I don't trust Jaeger…._

To be honest, Annie isn't quite sure how she ought to feel about the boy. For one thing, she's starting to become increasingly cognisant of just how unacquainted she is with her emotions—not that this inexperience is anything to lose sleep over. She has witnessed the trials and tribulations of her fellow cadets through the years of their enlistment, and she's made it a point to test her father's philosophy—that oftentimes, emotions are much better when they are exploited against the enemy; that they do not strengthen one's resolve, but act merely as a hindrance—and she cannot find much fault in this strategy. It annoys her, therefore, to know that it's only been an hour or so since she and Jaeger left the shed and she is still dwelling on technicalities; another needless distraction from her cause. After all, there can be no _attachments_ to anyone, plain and simple. The Mission comes first, above all else, even Bertholdt and Reiner, if such a need arises.

 _Even Mina._ Annie scowls, unsure how Carolina has wormed a way into her thoughts at a time like this. _She wouldn't leave me alone. I had no choice but to let her befriend me._

But Jaeger wouldn't leave her alone, either. Then again, it's not as though Annie has ever asked Mina for the favour she asked of him to-day. She's never asked any-body such a dangerous and personal question before.

Perhaps it was only a matter of time before something like this happened, because now-a-days she hardly spars with anyone else; squaring off with her own fears just doesn't work like it used to. Grudgingly, Annie's allowed Jaeger to partner up with her during more than a few past excursions. She has made it a point to ignore remarks from the likes of Carolina and other prying eyes—just because she's allowed him to become a little more familiar doesn't necessarily mean anything has changed….

Except what else is she supposed to take from what has happened to-day, if not that she has been careless enough to prove _every_ little stupid, off-colour remark and scrap of intrusive speculation that a chosen few have been implying for months?

(Bitterly, she can't help but think that desire had been much easier to ignore before there was a face and a name to go along with it. Discounting guilt, it's the main reason she won't meet his eyes.)

Then again, the other cadets knew plenty about Franz and Hannah, but Franz and Hannah are idiots, too open, too trusting of others. The relationship between Ymir and Krista is similarly known, but it's not the same, more like a strange and ambiguous power-play. There have been other associations that have come and gone, but none have remained that memorable.

Annie figures this latest development between herself and Jaeger is definitely going to turn some heads. _It's all part of the deception,_ she thinks furiously. _I have to blend in, I have to earn someone's trust or they'll know something is different with me._

But why Jaeger's trust, and not Carolina's? Something twists in her gut, hot and bitter, a bit like self-loathing. _Because Carolina doesn't know when to leave well enough alone, and Jaeger is…._

How _is_ Jaeger is any different? Her scowl deepens, twists her features into something harsh, ugly and unseen. _It doesn't matter_ , she thinks vehemently. _If Jaeger makes it into the Scouts, he'll surely be dead, come May._

It's a probable outcome, sure. But there's no way to know for certain.

 _He's a fool,_ she thinks viciously. _If he dies, I don't want to know about it._

* * *

The sun sinks lower on the horizon. Jaeger seems to be losing steam. Annie remains virtually silent, for her part, and when she does talk at all, it's only to urge them onward.

By the time night falls, they are each horribly restless. Annie knows they've no reason to be. They are alone out here. There are no mindless Titans within the Walls.

In the light of the moon they come to a ravine. Fatigue compels them to take their refuge by the edge of the forest. The ground is cool and slightly damp beneath their feet. All is quiet, save for the natural exchange between the insects and animals of the eve.

—I've been meaning to ask you, Jaeger says, once they are reasonably settled. Why were you pitching in back there?

—Hm?

—It's just…well, you usually find some excuse to worm out of those kinds of obligations. I'm not used to seeing you out there with the rest of us.

—Bodt was the one who caught me. And he's impossible to get away from, once he sees you.

—He's like me, then? Eren suggests.

Annie huffs. —If it hadn't been for both of you, I'd have been slacking off as usual.

—Right, says Eren without further elaboration.

She stares at him. He's curled himself up into a compact shape against a nearby tree, regarding her warily over the top of his folded arms. Moonlight sparkles delicately off the water, reflected in her eyes and his. It's all she can see of him.

—Oi, Annie?

—What.

—Are you cold?

—No. Are you cold? she asks.

—No, says Jaeger. Thought you'd be.

—I see.

Another, lengthy pause.

—So are you just gonna stare at me all night, or are you going to go to sleep? Jaeger mutters sedately.

Annie's grateful for the dark because she can feel a subtle warmth creeping up her throat, into her face, echoing someplace lower. Her legs fold up sub-consciously. —I can't sleep.

—Me neither, he admits.

—…do you want to talk? she asks after a moment.

—Not particularly, Jaeger mutters. His voice hushes prematurely on the end of his sentence, like he's stifling a yawn. If you…want to talk, I'll try.

—I don't, really. Can you take first watch?

—Hunh?

—You say you can't sleep. So take the first watch.

—Yeah, says Jaeger, all right. But you should probably try and get some rest.

Annie closes her eyes, wishing it were so simple.

Within half an hour she's bored as well as restless. Her mind keeps drifting back to the offer made to her on the floor of the shed. She knows she ought not to alert Jaeger now, just in case he thinks she is sleeping.

But she's tense, keeps looking around without moving her head. Annie thinks about getting his attention, or perhaps catching him by surprise, just to see the look on his face.

One of them needs to rest, and it's obviously not going to be her. Any diversion seems pointless when she's still caught up in fresh memory. If she is smart, there will be plenty of time to correct all her mistakes—and create fresh ones….

She pulls her hand back from where it's been wandering and holds it firm at her side, angry at her lack of self-control.

* * *

She must be more tired than she realises, because Annie doesn't actually recall falling asleep until she wakes up again, keenly aware of the way her heart pounds and a fleeting sense of joy and despair. When she blinks, her eyes are wet.

She looks around and Jaeger is there, but he won't quite look at her.

—What? she asks.

There's no response. He's pretending to be asleep.

—Jaeger, she says irritably, what's the matter?

—You, uh. Talk. In your—in your sleep.

Her own, private terror sinks in so fast she's up in a flash. —What did I say?

Jaeger looks distinctly uncomfortable. —Nothing, really. You were…apologising to someone, I think. It was hard to make out.

Now she can't look at him.

—Annie? We don't have to talk about it, if you don't want to, Jaeger adds hastily.

—It's fine, she says brusquely. Thanks for waking me.

But she sits alone, uneasy, and wonders to whom she was speaking. Mina? Her father? It couldn't have been Jaeger, could it?

She's too groggy to think about it all that deeply. She doubts either of them did much watching last night besides trying not to look at each other. Or maybe he _was_ looking at her. Maybe he's just as curious about what goes on in her head as she is concerned about his own thoughts.

Mist is rising over the ground and the air is cool. It must have rained sometime this morning. Her head pounds a little. She waits for an indeterminable amount of time for the ache to cease. It's a small surprise when Jaeger speaks again: —We should get moving.

They finish their rations, go over to the river to re-fill their canteens, all without a word.

—Still know where we're going? he asks.

Annie nods, a bit more clear-headed from the water. He leaves her alone, then. She is in the lead initially, but ends up lagging a step behind him as the minutes drag on. Jaeger doesn't appear to be all that concerned by this.

The sun is rising, but it's a cloudy day. The light, no longer golden, shines down silvery, restrained. The sky is grey and gloomy. The air tastes of fresh rain. Their boots score the earth, leaving faint tracks, staining their soles in a shallow coat of mud.

Perhaps it's their growing proximity to the base, and the accompanying sense of finality that causes Annie to break the silence that surrounds them.

—Jaeger.

—Hm?

—I've been thinking about your offer.

There's a hitch in his gait. He recovers quickly. —Okay, he says, still steady. What about it?

—I'm ready when you are.

—Erm, Jaeger says, assessing her with a cursory glance over his shoulder, only to find her stoic. He turns away, continues: …all right. I just reckoned you seemed a bit tired this morning, that's all. Annie wants to deny it, but then Jaeger throws her a second glance over his shoulder before adding, tentatively: I won't tell anyone about…y'know, what happened yester-day, if that's what's bothering you.

—You wouldn't live long enough, she says coolly.

Jaeger grins. —Ha. Yeah, you're probably right about that. Then his humour falters and he's sober again. He picks up his tread again, as if self-conscious, shoulders stiff. His tone is distinctly gruff when he speaks: Look, Annie, what you did, that was, uh. It was really nice of you, and everything, but….

He peters off. Annie's smirking. —I'm flattered, but that's not going to help your chances.

Eren curses audibly under his breath. —No, _listen_. You shouldn't just…ask people something like that, out of the blue. Didn't anybody ever teach you about this stuff?

—What are you implying? Her tone is markedly cool. Jaeger seems to realise his mistake.

—I'm just—well, frankly, I'm kinda worried about you.

—I gave you my reasons, Jaeger. What else do you want?

For the first time he turns around fully, eyebrows raised, incredulous. —Am I _allowed_ to be concerned about you?

—Why, has your sister asked you that before? Annie shoots back. Did you brush her off the same way?

Jaeger flushes all the way to his ears. Annie realises that she's probably just made an ill-advised mistake, though that stubborn part of her considers the act to be justified; Jaeger knows her weaknesses, she knows his, so let him try and come up with something better. As if on cue, he lets out a bark of oddly callous laughter that is not at all becoming of his nature.

—Is that really the best insult you can come up with? he retorts, seething in kind. Because it's nothing I haven't already heard. And why don't you leave Mikasa out of this, while you're at it?

Annie doesn't like his tone. She doesn't say anything, keeps walking. The steady crunch of decaying brush under his boots has ceased.

—Oi, Jaeger starts, and he's not so calm anymore. Look up, I'm talking to you.

Annie ignores him.

—Goddam it, Annie! he growls.

More crunching, prompt and harsh. She flinches when he grabs her arm, like he's burnt her.

—Let go of me, she spits.

But he doesn't, staring down at her, genuinely frustrated. —Would it kill you to drop the act for once and just—?

—Just what, Jaeger? she asks sharply, cutting him off.

There is a long, strained silence while they each glare at one another. For a moment Annie wonders if she's gone too far, but then he exhales, and the fire dims a bit.

—You're scaring me, he admits, after a pause. His voice is forcibly low. She wants to move away but his grip on her is tight, enough to keep her attention.

—What?

—Annie, you can't just…pretend that nothing's wrong, or that you don't care about whatever it is that's got you out of sorts.

—Why should I take advice from you? she sneers.

He chuckles, mirthless. —Because you're really not any good at it. Pretending.

It's a tall insult. Annie goes tight-lipped and spits: —You don't know anything about me. Don't pretend otherwise.

Jaeger makes a face like he's trying very hard not to roll his eyes. —Yes, he says, evidently straining for some reserve of patience, yes, I _know_ that, but—God, can't you understand why I'd even be concerned at all? What the hell am I supposed to think, with the way you're acting?

She will not be the first to look away. He exhales, defeated. The fight has left them both and now they stand, face-to-face, two weary children clad in soldiers' uniforms. They are in the midst of a war. Theirs is a relationship that should not have any chance to flourish under the best of circumstances. And yet….

—We're probably not going to be together after we graduate, Annie says, choosing her words carefully. I didn't want to—give you any false hope, or…. _Give you any more of a reason to like me_ hangs in the air, unsaid. _I'm not supposed to be your friend. I'm not supposed to be anyone's friend._

—I see, is all Jaeger says, and then hesitates before adding: …so why'd you choose me at all?

—I told you already, Jaeger. I trust you.

Something has changed in his eyes. She can't place a name to it.

—Do you regret what you've done? Annie asks quietly, and realises her voice is tight, uneven. She wonders whom she is asking, really.

Jaeger frowns. —Why would I regret it?

A pathetic, half-angry snigger escapes her; she bites her lip 'til she fears it'll bleed. Everything seems hell-bent on betraying her. Jaeger's expression turns to one of distress.

—…m'sorry, she mumbles, looks away, blinking viciously. I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have done it.

—What are you talking about, Annie? Jaeger says tremulously, like he's watching her bleed out before his eyes instead of lose her self-possession. Annie wants to laugh, because it's preposterous he'd be that concerned about her. Oi, he says.

—What? Her voice is constricted, but satisfactorily stable.

—Look at me, all right? he says, and both his touch and his voice have softened.

Annie doesn't know what possesses her to comply. He looks like he wants to hug her.

—What made you think I would regret this? Jaeger asks quietly.

—I don't know.

It's half a lie. He releases her.

—Do you regret it now? Jaeger asks.

Annie shakes her head, feeling immeasurably selfish. —I don't want to see you hurt, she mutters, more for her own benefit than anyone else's.

Jaeger looks disquieted. —Listen. You're not gonna hurt me, okay?

She thinks: _You're going to hate me, and yourself, the day you discover what I really am. And if what you've said is true, if you came from Shiganshina, then I won't fault you for that._

But what she says is: —Can I ask you a question?

—Erm. Sure.

—Why'd you agree to this? Coming back with me, and all?

As soon as the words are out, regret squeezes her chest like an iron vice and she doesn't want to know his reasons, she'd give anything to make him shut up.

—Well, Annie, Jaeger says, averting his eyes briefly, I think you can be pretty stubborn, for one thing, but that's…all right, I reckon. After all, you—you'd have to be, 'cos you're a brilliant teacher, and friend, and…. He sighs. Sorry. I dunno why I'm saying all this when I could just get to the point…I guess I'm nervous.

His voice goes softer still at the end, simultaneously reverent and anxious, like some part of him still expects her to react unfavourably, or not react at all.

—Listen, Jaeger continues, his voice a little stronger now, I couldn't just leave you there on your own, not in any good conscience. So if I'm going to be stuck with you for a while longer because I wanted to do the right thing, then I don't mind.

—I don't mind, either, Annie says. It's as close to the truth as she dares to approach.

It's almost amusing, the way Jaeger looks at her now. —You don't? Then why'd you go off on me before?

—You were right to call me an arse, she says, ignoring the sound of protest that escapes him. And don't deny it, I was one. I'd probably go mad if I let you get on my nerves all the time, so…. She exhales, adds, inconclusively: I'm not sure what else you want me to say.

—Are you going somewhere with this? he asks carefully.

Her mouth is dry. She licks her lips and, reaching for courage, glances up at him.

—Do you still want to make it up to me? she whispers.

Jaeger blinks. Does a double-take, and then asks: —Right _now_?

* * *

Now her shirt is hiked up, bunching around her shoulders and the top of his head. She feels hot and hindered by the fabric, wants it off, but Jaeger doesn't seem to mind its presence nearly as much as she does, and Annie feels no pressing need to interrupt him.

—Is this really what you want? she asks lowly, if only to quench her own slow-dying unease.

Jaeger stops his ministrations, rises up and kisses her forehead; she feels remarkably undeserving. —I asked if you'd let me make it up to you, he mumbles, running a hand up her side.

—Yeah, she says bluntly, staring at the ridge of his collarbone because it's easier than looking him in the eye.

He looks at her funny before he tilts her head up to kiss her properly. —I _want_ to make it up to you, Annie.

—Then do it.

He ushers her forth to relieve her of her shirt, her boots and belt thereafter. She doesn't protest, watching his hands. By the time he drags down her chinos she's all but trembling with want.

—So, says Jaeger methodically, like he's trying to be level-headed and it's taking every ounce of his composure to accomplish that feat, so what—what should I do?

—Is that— she swallows, voice cracking with nerves, and tries again: Are you asking me what I want, now?

—Maybe I am, he says. He's definitely grown braver in the span of a single night. His hands are steady as they rise to frame her shoulders.

—Well, if you're really serious about this, she drawls, you'll have to make me ready first.

He's quiet as he studies her, tongue-in-teeth, seeming to reach a silent conclusion. —'lright, he mumbles, hands shifting to her hips, cautious without fear.

—Don't you think you should get this off, first? she offers, thumbing idly at his belt.

Jaeger halts at the contact. —Ah. R-right.

As she watches him fiddle with his own clothes, Annie allots herself a moment to reflect on how inconvenient it is that he's a head taller. Soon enough, though, he's closing her in again, chinos pushed haphazardly 'round his hips. Caught up in his shadow, she shrinks back without thought, hands on his chest.

—Annie? he asks softly.

—Watch me, is all she says, reaching down to run her fingers lightly against herself. It feels stupid, almost, until she looks up and Jaeger's moved in, brow to her temple, quietly enraptured. Her heart hammers; she tears her attention back down.

—What is it? he mutters, nudging her thigh with his knee; the movement is slight but it brings her back to the present. _He's still got his fucking boots on,_ she realises, with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

—You can't possibly see anything if you're that close, she says.

Jaeger hums, low in his throat. —Oh? And how d'you know that?

Her eyes fall on his clavicle again. She doesn't provide an answer this time, just huffs, head bowed to his shoulder.

—Well, _now_ I can't see anything, he mutters, and she can almost feel him grinning. Annie scowls into the fabric of his shirt. Jaeger takes hold of her shoulders, gently pushes her back against the tree.

—Do you understand what to do, now? she asks, nearly losing her nerve when his hand sweeps up her naked side.

—I think so.

His tone sounds genuine enough. —All right, Jae—Eren, she switches course, trying to be a little more civil, shifting her stance to give him room.

—Hm?

Annie hadn't figured he'd want a response. She bites her lip, searching for words or a smart rejoinder. Nothing comes to mind.

—It's nothing. Touch me, she decides, and maybe it's a little blunt, but Annie knows he won't care, and so it doesn't make any difference.

Jaeger cups the back of her head and the inside her thigh, tilting her up into a kiss.

It's easiest to pretend when there are no words between them, only the simple presence of his fingers on her skin. He leaves her feeling small and frail in ways she's never quite thought to consider, and it's funny how irony works at the most inconvenient of times; but when she meets his eyes again her fear neither leaves nor consumes her, abated in favour of something much more alien and good.

—You're so warm, he mumbles, as he draws idle half-circles against her before slipping inside. Annie makes a wordless little noise, tensing and relaxing.

—Why? Am I—supposed to be dead? she asks.

Like magic, Jaeger stops his ministrations to stare at her. Succeeding silence, a nervous sort of laugh escapes him. —What the hell kind of question is that? he mutters, only half-chiding, fairly disquieted.

—You sounded surprised, she retorts, quickly becoming self-conscious. You know, because if I was dead, I wouldn't be, uh…

Annie considers the damage she's dealt and stops talking.

—What am I supposed to be doing, here? Jaeger asks, perhaps trying to change the subject.

Her brows crease. Taking his hand, she guides his touch up again, eliciting a little spark.

—Ah. Her voice quavers. Right…there. You feel that?

—Feel what?

She exhales, replicating the motion much more deliberately. Her breath catches. — _That_. It's a little different, isn't it?

—I dunno.

She can tell he's confused. _It doesn't matter_ , she thinks. —Keep on with it.

Jaeger does just that, going a little farther until he finds something else that makes her jump; comprehension dawns on his features. —Oh, is _that_ …?

Annie shuts her eyes tight, trying to steady her voice. —Hah. Y-yeah, that's—mm.

She shudders around his fingers and he's a touch nervous when she looks at him, but he's also bright-eyed and curious and eager as if it's any other goddam ordinary day out in the field and Annie really doesn't know what she's supposed to do with this notion. She doesn't dare to meet his eyes again for fear of losing what little composure she has left. Instead she buries her face in his chest, breathes in the scent of leather and sweat and his own smell masked beneath this, strangely heady. Her hands fist blindly in the thin material of his shirt and he kisses her scalp.

Coming to the precipice, she's dazed, yet strangely hyperaware, winding up into the curl of his fingers, shedding hesitance with a tiny groan. Jaeger's warmed her plenty despite the surrounding chill; it's as if heat bleeds from his pores. Slinking back, she sneaks a hand between them, and there's a quiet rustle before she gets a hold of him. Jaeger sucks in a little breath, going taut above her.

—A-Annie, he hisses. Her mouth curls, but she offers no reply. Not to be outdone, his palm cups her groin and she jolts, trapping him with her thighs.

Shuddering, she states: —That's enough.

Eren grunts in confusion.

—I'm ready, she tells him feverishly, I'm _ready_ , Eren, please.

He groans against her temple, like that was all he needed to hear, and he retreats, stooping slightly to lock his arms just under her hips, hauling her inelegantly. Annie gasps at the abruptness of the motion and her back slams against the tree. She squirms, frustrated, throwing her legs around his waist, her arms looping carelessly over his neck.

—Are you okay? he asks, surprisingly lucid.

—Fine, she growls. Do something already.

—Sorry, Jaeger mumbles. He brushes her hair aside and plants a little kiss to her mouth. Part of her just wants him to abandon the pretence and fuck her right up against this stupid tree so she won't have to think on how foolish she's been acting. Reiner will be furious with her. Bertholdt won't be happy, either. _Fraternising with the enemy_ , they'll say, and they won't be wrong at all, it's a hundred times worse than fraternising.

But he doesn't delay, reaches down to whet himself against her. It occurs to Annie that he's trying to make her feel good, too, and maybe this is something she ought to explore while she still has time; she can't deny that she's at least _somewhat_ curious as to what he'll do with her.

When he settles into place she's shaking, helpless, but all he does is ask if she's okay. She cranes her neck up 'til it's uncomfortable, side-eyes him. Jaeger stares back evenly.

It still frightens her, how easily he seems to fills in the gaps without so much as speaking a word to her, more than any lumbering Titan ever could, more than failure, more than incurring Shadis's wrath or the thought of anyone else finding out what she's got hidden beneath her near-perfected veneer of unreachability.

Annie hates being afraid.

—Eren, she mumbles.

—Yeah?

His voice is subdued, a little husky. His hands settle on her hips as she shifts around. She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out. He allows a pause—giving her time to adjust, maybe—and then eases back, burying himself flush with a hiss. Annie gasps at the rush more than anything, clings to him out of reflex.

—S'it hurt? he croaks, immediately alert.

—No, she insists, no, it's just…

Annie isn't sure herself. She feels vulnerable and strangely safe in his arms as she tucks her chin into her chest. His hands come up to grasp her waist and his hips tentatively nudge her. She bites back a moan and tenses, knows he can feel it in the way he squeezes her hip, panting.

—Tell me if it's— he says hoarsely, cutting off for dearth of anything useful to add.

—Yeah, she mutters vaguely.

He pulls back, pushes again. The angle aches a bit, like a stretch, but it's not enough to put her off. He's strangely gentle despite the urgency bleeding into his touch. Annie takes pity on the both of them, tells him to go faster, so he obliges. Not fully anticipating the force behind it, she latches onto him again, much more tightly. Her nails score leather before reaching skin; she feels Jaeger flinch, his breath harsh against her jaw, and then he all but shoves her against the tree in response.

—Shit! she grunts, and he kind of freezes, easing off quickly.

—Too much?

He sounds nervous again. Annie wants to laugh at his tone. —No, she says, that was…good.

Her voice goes all hushed on _good_ , like she's holding back a sneeze.

—O-oh, says Jaeger hoarsely, looking rather relieved.

—Do it again, she breathes, running her fingers through his hair. Then, for good measure, adds: _Harder_.

He acts without further contemplation, hands under her arse and sweeping her up into the motion. She gasps, squirming against him.

—Like…like that? he huffs.

Recovering somewhat, Annie sighs, kisses him. —You're thinking too much. Just fuck me.

He twitches at the notion, startling her, and he blinks once, then rapidly, brows drawn together.

— _Jesus_ , Annie, he mutters at last, his voice a good deal rougher. Are you sure?

The question is quick and un-prompted. Annie smiles lazily up at him, casting caution to the wayside.

—Yeah.

His whole body trembles a moment and he's guilty when he grins. —Okay, he says. Okay, I can—just lemme…

He puts his weight into it in such a way that she's sandwiched between his body and the tree. Consequently, the angle changes; Annie's eyes widen, then she screws them shut and trembles, burrows her face into his shoulder to stifle her moan.

—Eren, she gasps, foregoing formalities altogether, clinging mulishly to shame and the back of his collar. Shit, Jaeger.

He laughs hoarsely, letting go of her body to brace himself on one hand above her head.

—How are you holdin' up? he mumbles, petering off to address her. The tension remains profuse between them.

Annie glances down, slightly breathless. —Ah? I don't know. You'll have to touch me.

—You sure? He pulls back slightly as though to give her a once-over. How about your back?

It stings a bit, but she'll never tell. Not to mention that it won't even matter by the time the day is over, but he doesn't need to know that part. Nevertheless, Annie's more than a little nonplussed that he sees fit to address this now.

—I'll be fine, she mutters. If you're that worried, rein it in a little.

He grunts. —Or we could, y'know. Not do this up against a tree.

—Yeah, she says vaguely. Or you could—rein it in a little.

Jaeger scowls as though she's missing the point entirely. —I just wanted to check on you.

She glances up at him, eyes lidded, a languid twist playing on her mouth. The spell is broken when he starts to rock. A tiny gasp escapes her, subsequently alarming him as well, because he's still inside her and he isn't really moving much but Christ, he keeps _twitching_ and—well, it's not _bad,_ exactly, but it's weird and totally out of her control and—

— _Stop_ that, she says weakly.

—What? he grunts.

Annie wriggles against his hips, restless, whimpers in pleasure and disquiet both when it produces the same effect as before.

— _That_ , she moans. God, you just di—a-ah.

Jaeger seems to get it then, and he snorts, like she's asking him to stop the rain or something else equally inconceivable. —I can't help it, y'know _._

—Fine, she says, feeling stupid and eager to get them moving properly again, grabbing his shoulders. Fine, don't talk now.

Jaeger hums low in his throat, pressing her to the tree with an air of casualness that both concerns and intrigues her. He takes the opportunity to steal a kiss before he resumes his pace, his forehead to the tree and breath at her temple.

It's a much rougher affair than the one yester-day; she's a little surprised, but she wants nothing more than to melt with him. Jaeger keeps on for a while, like he fully intends to push her right over with him. Then, somewhat abruptly, a shudder runs all through his body and he groans, his hips stuttering, panting harshly with effort as he draws to a stop. For a moment she thinks he's only come but no, he's still moving, barely. Disgruntled, Annie clenches around him and his hips snap against hers, knocking her breathless.

— _Fuck!_ he growls through his teeth.

—Close? she pants, more than a little amused.

—Ngh, he says, tucking his head back down into her shoulder.

Her nails scrape dull against his naked thigh. —Are you _close_ , Jaeger?

The sigh that leaves him is one of delight and frustration, equally. —Yeah, he grits, slightly muffled. Yeah, I'm….

—Wanna finish with me?

She isn't entirely sure what compels her to asks the question, but it spills out of her before she can stop herself; another lapse in judgement. She feels him jump again, wordless, breathing hard.

—You—you don't really have to, she mutters, flustered, I meant…

—Yeah, Jaeger says, and both his grip and tone are notably brusquer than before; whether it's from the pressure of this situation or her poor implication, she cannot tell. I get it, Ann, I want to, just….

He nips at her shoulder, cups her thigh awkwardly as he withdraws. She whines at the loss, but he quickly drops to her on half-bended knees, practically squishing her, and they're both wide-eyed and blushing, wrapped up cautiously in each other.

There's a tremulous second of silence, maybe two, before he kisses her.

—I'm not gonna stop, he whispers hoarsely, I swear, Annie, I want to—

Annie grabs his face and more-or-less crushes their mouths together, hard enough to taste teeth.

—D'you ever shut up, she groans, exasperated.

He grins against her jawline. —Hunh? I'll do pretty much anything you want, you know. His humour disbands when she takes the lead, curling her hand just to make him swear again.

—But you're _not_ shutting up, she says huskily.

—I th-thought that was supposed to be a joke, he pants.

—Hm?

—You're—hah. He's wound-up and shaking, evidently frustrated at the shoddy nature of his own discourse. You, you're still—and I _can't_ ….

—Don't worry about it, she mutters, runs her free hand down to take care of herself. I'll show you what to do with me after this, if you'd like.

Jaeger's eyes flicker to hers, hazy but alight with wonder. She smirks. Almost immediately he crumbles again. —A _ah_. Yeah, yeah, I don't mind, I don't—fuck. He pushes his head into her shoulder, grasps for the hand that holds him, mumbling her name.

She hums, and he bucks as if in response, makes a funny sound, somewhere between a sigh and a moan: —I'm so _close_.

—Don't waste your breath, she tells him.

He spends first shortly thereafter, in her fist and his, panting into her throat as he unwinds. Victory leaves her oddly satisfied and she wipes her hand on his shirt. He makes a groggy noise of discontent and tries to wipe his hand on her leg, then the tree.

Half a minute later, somewhat unexpectedly, he starts touching her again and Annie squeaks, then bites her tongue, horrified at the way her own voice sounds. Eren hesitates; then at her insistence, gives her a few heavy, lingering strokes that are more evocative than anything. When he pulls back she tries to protest, but all that comes out of her is a breathless whine.

—Why'd you stop? she hisses, reaching up to grab his face, and God, it sounds pathetic coming from her.

He blinks. —Hunh? I thought you'd—oh.

—Okay, she shudders, not sure what he means and in no mood to waste time, okay, that's…I'm fine, we're fine, you can touch me.

He obliges this. She moans a little.

—It's all right, Eren murmurs, as if he's responding to something she just said instead of a wordless noise, sounding just as dazed as she feels. He pulls back, maybe to watch what he's doing, and she cannot hide, trapped between his hand and the tree at her back.

Annie shudders, gaze cast downward. —Go—go slow, won't you?

He smiles gently. —Sure. You're the more delicate of us two, after all.

She snorts. —I can't believe you just said that, she grumbles flatly.

—I just thought it applied to our situation.

—Ha, she says, trying very hard to look and sound sardonic despite the obvious waver in her voice. _God_ , but you need to learn how to talk to girls.

He scoffs. —You could always tell me how, instead of jumping me again.

Annie wonders if she ought to take him up on that, but he's making it difficult to think. She sighs, panting as he rubs little circles into the juncture between hip and thigh.

—I'm not sure that you really need my help… she mumbles. Still, she coaxes him through her own rise and fall—and Eren probably doesn't really know what he's doing, but she finds herself spending less time offering much in the way of direction and more time making soft, desperate little noises against her fist.

The build-up is irregular. She can't get enough at first, and then suddenly it's too much, leaves her shying back into the tree but he catches her, anyway.

—Close? Eren asks quietly.

Her teeth scrape dull against her knuckles. She nods feverishly. He tilts her head up and she startles when their eyes meet, averting her gaze with a low groan; it's too intimate, much too good.

—Please, she mutters, every inch of her buzzing and tense, I…I want it to be you.

Eren strokes the small of her back like he's in the middle of consoling her instead of letting her rut up awkwardly against his palm. She claws helplessly at his back and he kisses her brow.

—O-oi, Annie, he says, withdrawing his touch carefully.

—Ah? Wh-what d'you need? she stutters frantically, uncertain why he has stopped.

He cups her jaw with his free hand. —Would it help you, if I…? He's trailing off, pink again, voice a good deal softer.

—If you what? she asks, composing herself.

His eyes drift, score a focussed line down her bare stomach. He goes quiet, just studying the vestige of slickness around his fingers before he brings it to his mouth and all Annie can think to do is stare like an idiot until Eren takes notice, stops what he's doing immediately and mutters something like: —I-I dunno, it seemed like—

—Jaeger, you son-of-a- _bitch_ , she growls, blushing furiously.

— _What?_ he responds, sounding genuinely bewildered.

Annie can't look at him. —I'm not—I didn't get to finish, she mutters.

There's a pause.

—Oh, Eren says measuredly, as if she's getting worked up over something very simple. Then let me just….

Annie leans into him, feeling awkward and frustrated and perhaps a little guilty at the way she's acting. But to her surprise, he sinks, kissing her in staggered, fervent little bursts; her mouth and the hollow of her throat—his chin drags diagonal from shoulder to breast—the skin below her navel, lower. He stops at her knee and noses upwards. Annie stiffens, shrinking back again.

—I wasn't sure if you liked this or not, he murmurs into her thigh, audible enough to be understood.

—Oh, says Annie vaguely, but on the inside she's a little…touched? God, she's gone through enough emotional confliction in the past couple days to last her a solid month.

Eren grunts. —What, Annie?

Her hand pauses, hovering over his scalp. —C'mere, and I'll show you.

He doesn't take much more convincing than that. She's lost her stride, but not her sensitivity, and given a few pointers, Eren seems to recognise what kind of effort it takes on his part to reduce her to a shuddering mess.

It should be funny, the way he glances up every so often at her, starry-eyed, almost enamoured, but all Annie does is hiss and splay herself to him. Her back arches and her hips press into his hands and Eren grunts against her, nudging one leg aside as he tilts his head and finds what they're both looking for.

Her hands ball up in his hair and his jacket, holding him as close as possible. Careless, she lets her head fall back with a dull throb of pain that's soon forgotten, and her eyes flutter, staring straight ahead without seeing into the dappled, empty light above. Her breath turns ragged, drawn-out.

Suddenly Eren pulls back, nosing at her thigh, and before she can protest he's captured her again with a quick, heated kiss, all tongue and teeth and reckless conviction 'til she finally pulls him against her with a frustrated moan; she's so close and it's getting unbearable, she swears to God that he's laughing a little—and then she melts.

For a while, the world simply exists at her back and at her feet, in the warmth of his hands and the shallow nature of his breath. Eren's murmuring something into her skin that she hears and does not understand, his tone hoarse, rife with euphoria.

Shaking, shaking, like she is due to fall apart, nerves frayed in a strange and wondrous sense, Annie becomes aware he is steadying her hips. It's over, she knows it's over, yet he still kisses her ravenously, like they are only now reuniting after weeks, months of separation. She tries to find her voice, conjure up anything coherent but only moans into open air. He sighs in return, voice raw, slightly thick.

The world still exists around them, but the thought of it is inconsequential. He leaves her with a parting kiss, exaggerated, and Annie squeaks again, swatting at his head before it dips, forehead to her hipbone, and Eren's half-laughing as he gasps that he really _needs_ to breathe.

He's panting when he stands again, wiping his mouth on his sleeve as he poses the question: —So, er. How'd I do?

Annie sort of hums. —Well, you're a mess.

Eren goes pink again, wiping his mouth much more staunchly. —So're you, he mutters brusquely.

She's tempted to laugh, masters the impulse with difficulty and instead smirks airily, adding: —You were fine, incidentally.

He grins as if abashed, leans in like he's going to kiss her, then stops. —Oi, he says, strangely furtive. Can I tell you something?

—…erm, says Annie, unsure where he's going with this. All right.

—I'm gonna miss you when you're gone, he confesses.

—I'm not gone yet, she says dryly. And anyway, we've got some time before they decide where to put us.

He laughs, brushing a few strands of hair from her forehead. —I know. I guess I miss you already.

—You shouldn't.

—Will you miss me? he asks.

—What do you think?

—I dunno. Not really?

Annie scoffs. —God, Jaeger. I'm not that much of an arse.

—Y'know, I think you might be right about that.

—Never-mind that, now, she says dismissively. Eren follows her gaze down.

There's a pause.

—O-oh, he mutters, blushing. It'll, uh. It'll stop.

Annie just smirks. The thrill of it lingers where he touches her.

—How do you feel? she asks him.

Eren's nonplussed at that. —Great! Well, a bit overheated, to be honest with you, but otherwise… He grins sheepishly. You?

She offers another ambiguous shrug. Her hand skates under his shirt, up over his naked stomach and abdomen. He gasps a little.

—A-Annie?

—It could be a while before we can get away with this again, she says quietly.

Eren shudders, eyes lidded, and moves to meet her as if in spite of his better judgement.

—How d'you know that? he asks, voice rougher.

—I said it could be the case, Annie murmurs distractedly. Not that it…would be.

He says nothing, braces himself on a palm just above her head; there's a pleasant echo of an aftershock when they meet and she sighs softly. His rhythm is slower, deliberate. Cupping the small of her back, he tends to the both of them. Annie moans again, quieter. His eyes flicker to her face, shadowed by his hair.

—You're still pretty wet, he murmurs, as though making conversation.

She raises her eyebrows, fingers carding lightly through his hair. —You don't have to sound so grim about it.

Stooping slightly to meet her, his shoulders hunch when she wraps her hand around him. She gauges this, and the way his brows pinch and his palm slides carefully up her back. She grabs his shoulder, repositioning herself. His breath stalls; but he pushes—this time they both gasp a little.

And Eren stops. Inhales, exhales, slow and deliberate, as if endeavouring to send some blood back into his brain, and mutters:

—Shouldn't…we get a move on? We're awfully close to the camp.

It's a half-hearted suggestion, and they both know it.

—Of course, Annie says, her coolness reinstated. But I think we've still got a little daylight to spare. She leans back, gazing up at him, small and soft and warm in her enclosure, asks: Now, would you like to learn more of the same?

Eren looks taken aback. Then he emits a hushed, hesitant sort of chuckle. —Er…wow. Are you…are you sure?

Annie just smiles. There's a strange flutter in her chest when he kisses her again.

* * *

For the remainder of their walk, they do not speak much, but walk adjacent to one another.

Eren reflects that Annie's demeanour has altered, subtle but unmistakable. He doesn't say anything, partly because he has a funny feeling she'll go back to her typical, stoic self immediately if he points it out.

It's nice to see her smile, at any rate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: a/n: HOW DID THIS GET SO LONG D: Whew, what a ride. I haven't forgotten about chapter four, but it's still in the works. It will happen when it happens.
> 
> edit!5/30/17: fixed a couple errors in ch. 2 and 3 I missed somehow. doesn't matter, it's fixed. ._.'


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